The Reluctant Soulmate
by DuchessNerd
Summary: Soulmate Fic inspired by Ozhawk's soulmate shorts. Roberta Emerson is a mole in Hydra, but the New Shield's Director has asked her to bring in Grant Ward. Things get complicated when Roberta discovers the identity of one of her soulmates. Updates may be slow, I apologize!
1. Chapter 1

**ETA: Ozhawk betad this chapter. I really appreciate her doing that for me!**

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If a person happens to be born after their soulmate, that person will have the first words spoken by their soulmate to them scrawled on their body in their soulmate's handwriting. If a person happens to be the oldest of the pair their soul mark will appear on the day of their mate's birth. Rarely, a person will have two sets of words.

Roberta Emerson felt it was unfortunate for her to have two such soul marks. Being a rather introverted sort, she didn't really see how well she would make it work with two people at once. Never mind the fact that she would be happy not to have a soul mate at all. From what she had seen, having a soul mate was a rather messy business and at times more painful than happy. Not to mention being a spy wasn't really conducive to a healthy relationship, in her opinion.

However these personal feelings did not negate the fact that she did indeed have two soul marks. Her marks had been with her since the day she was born, and they were part and parcel of her problems. She was apparently born to a very conservative family that had a problem with polyamory. Triads were rare but that was the only known cause of any one having two soul marks. Knowing that their bouncing baby girl would one day bring home two men, or worse some combination including women, they put her up for adoption.

Roberta was not particularly grateful for what could be seen as a kindness as her birth parents would have been incapable of accepting her as she was. Growing up in the system she bounced around quite a lot, destroying her ability to develop relationships easily since she always expected them to be broken by choice or circumstance. She grew to have a great deal of detachment from other people. Without the typical American dream family to provide her with stability in the monetary or housing departments the only options left for legal employment were the military or fast food. Shooting guns sounded like a lot more fun than flipping burgers, and had the added benefit of free housing.

Her emotional detachment and lack of ties eventually enabled her to become a very good double agent since she had no one she cared to share personal information with, which helped cut down on the amount of lies to keep straight. Being seemingly cold hearted also made it believable for Hydra to accept that she wasn't really a Shield agent.

Roberta didn't actually happen to be cold hearted. She felt a great deal, but she never made herself vulnerable enough to other people for them to see that. Since Hydra was not concerned with the quality of humanity it recruited they didn't really care much that she seemed slightly sociopathic. In the minds of those that had tried to recruit her to their cause that made her the perfect mole inside of Shield. What hadn't occurred to her Hydra handlers was that being exposed to the amount of injustice through the foster system that she had been, it made her that much more keen to see justice served.

Roberta knew her own shortcomings, she didn't play well with others since she refused to trust, and she did seem cold because she refused to nurture relationships. To top it all off she was jaded and somewhat disillusioned. She sounded like the more sane members of Shield that had defected to Hydra. Which made her a perfect mole for Shield inside of Hydra.

Roberta rarely felt embarrassment, since she didn't chase relationships she needed very little outside approval; however she felt a great deal of embarrassment over the placement and content of one of the soul marks she bore. Situated over her heart, it read quite simply in a fairly sharp and sloppy scrawl, "I will have Skye, kill the asset if you want or whatever, but leave her for me." It was her first indicator that she wasn't going to be a kindergarten teacher or senator's wife. It was also a good sign that fate had most likely paired her with at least one psychopath, but in all probability it was an established mated psychotic pair if the second mark that spiraled her right thigh was any indicator. She knew that the chances were high that at least one of her soul mates would be Hydra after accepting her post from Fury.

Since the one mark was so sinister, and quite frankly telling, she kept it covered with high-necked shirts or cosmetics. Her soul marks were her second best kept secret, the last thing she needed was Hydra or Shield to try and fabricate one or both of her soul mates for leverage.

Her one hope was that the owner of the mark on her thigh was some clueless good-hearted schmuck that was besotted with the owner of the mark over her heart. His/Her mark was written in a neat cursive script, "It's an honor to meet you. Bucky has told me so much about you." It curled elegantly in a spiral from the point where her thigh met her hip down to her knee. At least she thought she might know what the more sinister mate's name was. Her hopes died a quick death the day she met the owner of the mark on her chest.

She had finally gotten a glimpse of the light at the end of the horrendous tunnel that was her life as a Hydra mole. Director Fury had left a list of assets for his successor, which included her. The new Director was kind enough to give her orders to bring in an ex Hydra mole, which would more than efficiently blow her cover. Director Coulson wanted Grant Ward in a very bad way as he was quite done playing Ward's games in relation to a certain hacker.

True, Ward wasn't with Hydra anymore, but he was a thorn in the side of the multi-headed beast and they too wanted him off the board. However, using Hydra resources and intel to take him into Shield wasn't going to go over well with those that had thought she was their own little sociopath on a leash. As far as they knew, up to this point she had been a wonderfully docile soldier.

The thought of finally being done with walking the fine line of carrying out just enough Hydra orders to maintain cover and botching enough of the truly despicable missions that she could stand the sight of her own reflection, was a true taste of bliss. Things were looking up in spite of the foreknowledge that one of her soulmates was going try to have her kill someone.

With that thought in mind she walked into her meeting with her target in fairly good spirits. After all, it's hard to remain moody knowing that you're about to get a vacation away from mad men. Unfortunately for her it was about to get worse. Ward was pacing the office space above the abandoned warehouse that they had agreed to meet inat like a caged tiger. His long legs eating up the square footage only to spit it out and repeat. _Too bad the cute ones are always so Byronic,_ the stray thought ghosted by her consciousness.

He looked up as she entered the room. Practically foaming at the mouth her began without preamble, "I will have Skye, kill the asset if you want or whatever, but leave her for me." She paused and blinked a bit owlishly. She was most assuredly not expecting that today of all days. Quickly recovering she pulled out her tranq gun and did her best to calm the nerves that threatened to give away her uncertainty when she spoke, "I'm afraid that I am not at all afraid that it's time for you to leave the Director's girlfriend alone."

He felt it then, _that_ pull. The one that so many poems and love songs had been written about. It was strong and he couldn't ignore it. Looking into her lovely grey eyes, that were so thickly fringed by gold tipped lashes, he felt the need to touch her, breathe her scent in, hold her, never let her go, and be everything that she needed him to be. He felt the need, like an ache in his bones to be the hero, to stop being the villain that chased after a young girl who didn't love him or want him.

That last little sane corner in his mind finally sucked in a breath and tried to take over, but he was too far gone on this road that he had begun when he tried to burn down his home with his family inside it. And now he was pissed. How dare she come in here with that calm steely voice and try to change him. He wanted Skye, not this mousy haired girl who must have deepened her voice to sound convincing in her bravery.

He didn't want a soul mate that had been chosen for him. He wanted to choose, he wanted to be the one with the power to reject or accept for once. The surge of anger he felt at the audacity she had to come in here and make him doubt his path, make him want what he hadn't chosen, pushed him over that last edge.

There was nothing left sane in him, and Roberta saw the break as it happened. His eyes had widened as he registered her first words to him, softening ever so slightly; and then something in them snapped. The brown hardened into the color of petrified wood as they became glassy and she knew that she had been right: one of her soul mates most definitely was psychotic. The man that stood before her was officially unhinged, and he was incredibly pissed off at her. The way he looked at her was as if her very existence offended and enraged him. She had no doubt that it actually did.

Roberta, being the sort to prepare thoroughly for assignments, had researched known cases of psychopaths that were paired with sane mates. It didn't normally turn out well for the sane mate or anyone around him or her. If the psychopath responded favorably to the discovery of their mate, they became possessive, irrationally jealous, controlling and abusive. Many such pairs ended in murder/suicide cases, others normally involved a lot of police involvement. Despite the unstable nature of a mate's mental state, many of the sane half of the pair found it impossible to live without their mate if the bond had been established; and since psychopaths rarely announced their mental shortcomings before sleeping with their mate to form the bond, that meant at least ninety percent of the documented cases were of bonded mates. The ten percent that had the luxury of not bonding to their insane other half still had to go through counselling to recover from the guilt of not accepting their mates and the mental damage from being stalked by said mate.

On the other side of the coin, sometimes the psychopath was not happy to have discovered their mate. They became murderous, seeking to punish the one whose existence threatened whatever happy place they had invented inside their own head. It appeared to Roberta in that moment that that would be the case for her and Grant Ward. At least she was wrong about both of her soulmates being psychotic… She hoped. Whoever owned the script on her leg was still a mystery, but Grant Ward obviously was not someone named Bucky; so perhaps there there really was hope to be had. However she had never heard of a psychotic mate recovering and leading a nice quiet life, and she would hate for whoever her other mate was to have to put up with Ward too; if he, or she, was in fact not insane or evil.

Roberta tried desperately not to focus on what the future implications of her predicament were, and instead concentrate on not getting herself killed. She needed to above all take Ward in to Shield so that she could get the freaking hell out of Hydra. She really couldn't live with herself much longer if she had to kill one more person that wasn't attacking her.

Roberta had unfortunately had involvement in one too many Hydra missions where someone ended up dead, scarred, or as a lab rat. It was lamentably her job though, she had to maintain her cover. She had tried to spare as many lives and as much innocence as she could without blowing her cover, but to get as deep as she had, and to stay there as long as she had, meant sacrificing pieces of herself. Pieces she had at one time respected. This would be one more scar on her soul, but betraying her soul mate meant getting out of this damn hell she lived in. She would give a lot more to be done with the sickness she was part of currently.

That was the thought that gave her the strength, in spite of his obvious insanity, to tranq him into submission. Coulson wanted this man alive. Ward would sing for Shield, and then be incarcerated. If he ever recovered from his mental state maybe he would forgive her for what she was doing. After all if she didn't take him in would he ever receive treatment? If she didn't take him in how would she ever be able to recover from what she had done? Their only chance to be together was for her to do this.

He was more than a fair bit woozy, and therefore easily guided. His large frame rested heavily on her smaller one, as she slung one of his arms across her shoulders to support him. She was tall for a woman, yet he still towered over her. Thankfully he was just conscious enough to drag his feet in the direction she led.

It was either divine intervention or a sheer dumb luck that he had come to this meeting alone. Her cover within Hydra was truly convincing for Ward not suspect that she was not 100% Hydra set on bringing him back in to the fold. All she had had to do was agree that yes their purposes did coincide and he could have the girl as long as she got the Soldier, dead or alive, for Hydra of course. It either spoke of how far gone his mental state now was, or how much this Skye person meant to him.

From the information that Director Coulson had provided her with, she knew Ward was obsessed with the New Shield's star hacker. He professed to be in love with her, and had left grisly tokens of affection for the girl, as most crazy stalkers are want to do. For whatever reason the new Director was very tired of the pain this was causing his hacker. Roberta assumed that he must be in love with the girl. Her life was shaping up to be a regular Soap Opera, full of star crossed lovers _._

" _Roberta's soulmate is in love with a young up-an- coming hacker who is in love with her boss, tune in next week to find out what Roberta will do. " I'm gonna tranq his ass again,_ she thought darkly as she half dragged, half gave herself a hernia trying to carry her insane soul mate to his meeting with justice. _Might even aim for his dick this time. God this man is heavy! Why didn't they send Captain America after him instead of little ol' me?_


	2. Chapter 2

Roberta had to acquire the assistance of a great many incredibly shady people to transport an obviously drugged man from one side of the country to the other where the New Shield had established their headquarters. It pained her soul to leave such people walking freely knowing how they got their experience for shipping drugged humans about the country without drawing legal attention. The fact that she knew any human traffickers sickened her that much more. It left her questioning if she had really done all that much good for the world by being a mole inside of Hydra. She did an amazing job maintaining her cover, no one had ever come close to suspecting her; but this was the kind of evil her job required she allow to fester. Dark, half formed thoughts began to swirl in her head as she hauled Ward up for his next dose of rohypnol. Maybe the world would be better without her in it, maybe whatever entity assigned soul marks knew what she would be, maybe she deserved Ward.

She shook her head, trying to dislodge the squirming evolving thoughts from her mind. Right now was not the time to devolve into a steaming pile of self-loathing. She had a mission to complete. She was doing something not evil right now by turning in her soul mate. He would face justice, and she would be free to make amends for every time she turned her back on doing the right thing in the name of the long game. How many people had her role as a double agent sacrificed for the greater good? Did the scales balance out? Or did the side of sacrifice weigh more? Did she even believe that crap about scales and greater good? Who had the right to decide how much a life was worth?

Looking over at Ward as she prepared to disembark with him for the final time on this journey, she realized he was about to be one more life placed on the "few" side of her scale. Roberta began to panic at that moment. What if there really was some intelligent entity out there assigning soul mates and judging her actions? She was so going to hell. If it wasn't blind impersonal fate, if it wasn't some random roll of cosmic dice, she was definitely going to hell. Not just for what she was about to do, but for everything that she had done before. _God, I hope you aren't there. Please don't be real,_ she begged in her moment of mental crisis. _Breathe, Roberta. Breathe. Just a bit farther and then you can break down mentally if you want. Maybe they'll put you in the cell next to Ward's_ , she coached herself as she walked toward the garage in which Coulson and his waiting team stood.

As she drew closer to the Director and cohorts she drew back into her shield, the mask she wore whenever she was near other members of humanity. Her features became as serene as those of the infamous agent known as The Calvary who stood to Coulson's right and slightly behind him. When Roberta deemed them close enough without placing herself immediately in striking distance, she assisted gravity in throwing Ward at the Director's feet in front of her. Roberta breathed steadily as she waited for SHIELD's representatives to speak first. The moment drew out as each side waited to see who would break the silence first.

"May," Coulson cut the lengthening moment short as he spoke to the agent at his right without breaking eye contact with Roberta, "please verify that," he indicated the man on the floor with a wave of his hand, "that is Grant Ward." As May, A.K.A. The Calvary, moved to obey the gently worded command, running a scanner over him. While a slight smirk graced his mouth the Director drew in breath softly to greet Roberta, "Ms. Emerson, so glad you could join us. How was the trip?"

Roberta wasn't sure how she felt about the levity she sensed in the Director's voice. Surely he knew what kind of people would have assisted her in getting an inebriated and helpless being that outweighed her by at least a hundred pounds across the country. So she allowed some of her own self-disgust to color her voice as she sneered in answer, "Sleazy, human traffickers are not known for classy transportation after all."

The look on the face of the girl to Coulson's left was anything but amused. Her hair was dark, her skin a dark and luminous gold, and her eyes a warm chocolate. At least they were warm before Roberta uttered her off color quip about her traveling companions. It would seem that Roberta would not be the only one to be disgusted with herself for her connections. As Roberta took in the trio Ward began to regain some consciousness. He blearily looked up at the girl on his and Roberta's right. His smile was feral and no less threatening for its drunken nature.

"Skye, did you miss me," his voice was dark and lascivious. _Oh how lucky am I,_ her mind exclaimed in dark sarcasm, _I get to watch my evil soul mate hit on his long lost love!_

The girl who was previously so unimpressed with Roberta, was apparently the person he had been stalking and taunting. The infamous Skye was really not going to be impressed were she to learn about Roberta's soul marks. Skye's eyes became haunted when Ward addressed her, and she tightened ever so slightly. Her entire being shrinking into itself even as she drew up in height. It seemed that even her breathes came less deeply, as if she were afraid that breathing the same air as Grant would somehow make him more real, more capable of touching.

As Skye drew into herself, a shadow separated from the rest in the oversized garage. The large hulking Darkness stopped next to Skye in a protective stance. He was angled so that his left side remained obscured to any searching eyes that did not stop Roberta or Ward from identifying him. Here stood the Winter Soldier, the asset that Hydra believed she would retrieve with the help of Grant Ward. Roberta was suddenly very glad that capturing her erstwhile soul mate was her last hurrah as a Hydra agent.

"Ms. Emerson, may I introduce you to Bucky Barnes, also known as the Winter Soldier," Coulson's pleasant voice had a subtle core of steel underlying the mild top notes.

"Pleasure," Roberta replied shortly, "Not to be rude or anything Director, but do you think we could go ahead and get the mad hatter here put away so you can have me debriefed and I can sleep in a bed. The whole sleeping with one eye open thing only allows for so much rest, and I didn't do much of even that while amongst my contacts that helped get Ward here."

"Of course, although you still have to go through the process of acquiring a lanyard. I wouldn't count on seeing a bed any time real soon, Ms. Emerson," was the Director's reply, again Roberta took note of the steel in the otherwise mild mannered voice.

"Please, call me Roberta. Or Emerson. Either way please drop the Miss," she requested getting quite sick of the sugary sweet politeness.

"Or course, Roberta," Coulson replied and then turned to the Winter Soldier, "Please take our guest to his holding cell, Barnes. Don't worry about being too gentle, he won't be capable of answering our questions until the drugs wear off. That could take some time."

The answering grin the Soldier wore was bone chilling to say the least. As he stepped forward to grab Ward, he laid a gentle hand on Skye's shoulder. Something in her stance softened at the light touch. She still resembled a spring to Roberta, just not so much a tightened one. At any moment it seemed that Skye could go back to that strained spring, quivering with the tension trapped in its coils.

As the Soldier's hand slipped off her shoulder, Skye reached her own hand out to brush the fingers of his hand as it descended from her shoulder. He sent a look over his own shoulder that Roberta could not see but if the look on Skye's face was anything to go by then she began to understand why Ward had contacted her handlers seeking an alliance with the intent of ending the Soldier's partnership with SHIELD. Ward was jealous, and with good reason considering the heat that Roberta just saw in Skye's eyes.

As if the fact that her soul mate was a murdering conscienceless psychopath wasn't complicated enough, he had to be in love with a woman who was in love with a man who was a century old and probably as equally unstable as himself after being repeatedly brainwashed and tortured for the majority of his unnatural life. _Oh, that soap opera comparison wasn't even right enough. And I still haven't met our third. How much worse is this going to get?!_ She thought viciously, closer to tears than she had ever been since she was a teenager.

She was pulled away from her internal monologue by the Director's voice instructing her to follow him. As she made to follow him May stepped in behind Roberta. She felt rather a bit like a prisoner herself in that moment, knowing as she did that May was more than capable of killing her with bare hands.

They herded her into a room that was supposed to resemble a mini conference room, but she knew that the look was purely deceiving as this was an interrogation room. They would debrief her and most likely arrest her when she spilled the beans about Ward being her soul mate. Coulson had her begin by asking her for what basically amounted to her life story. His justification for going so far back was that he was not Director when she was recruited. So she began the arduous task of relaying the entirety of the story from her recruitment by Director Fury when she was only twenty to walking into the abandoned warehouse to meet with Ward.

"When I walked into the rendezvous point Ward was pacing and muttering to himself. When he noticed my presence he launched into what I am disappointed to have to say are my soul mark words." She stopped speaking to allow that to sink in. May immediately sat up straighter, a glower forming on her usually serene face. Coulson merely raised eyebrows at Roberta. She waited for either of them to start in on her in an accusing manner, but neither did. Instead the Director invited her to continue with her description, when she repeated the words and finished relaying the rest of the events that lead her to walking into Shield's garage Coulson asked her, "Emerson, do you mind showing May and myself the soul mark? We need to document it, but if it's in a particularly intimate place we can have a medic do it during your physical," he finished kindly. May still sat stiff, and what appeared to Roberta to be in suspicion.

"Of course," she said as she stood to remove her coat, a blush stealing up her neck and face all the same. She had on a shirt and tank underneath, her blush became deeper as she pulled the shirt over her head. She then pulled the tank off her left shoulder towards her elbow. Picking up a sealed water bottle from the center of the table she dampened a corner of her discarded t-shirt and began to wipe the concealer off the swell of her left breast. Unbearably humiliated at this point she thought, _I should have took him up on the offer to have a medic document this. This is way more intimate than I ever wanted to be with_ anyone _._ Roberta, though, was not one to allow second guessing to leave her in a moment of indecision and forged on until the skin of breast and chest were red from the scrubbing, the angry scrawl of Ward's soul mark seemed to fit better with the angry look of the blush from her scrubbing and embarrassment than it did when her skin was smooth and clear in normal circumstances. _If only tattoos worked to cover soul marks,_ she thought, not for the first time.

Roberta found that she had never felt so naked before, and couldn't bring herself to display her usual cold defiance to the two strangers across the table from her. So she left her head down, pretending to examine the dirty make up on the t-shirt in her inert hand. Even overcome by her own embarrassment she couldn't bring herself to completely expose her weakness, let them think that she was judging the amount of makeup it took to cover the damned thing and deciding if she should seek out a better brand for her purpose.

It was May who broke the silence this time, her voice calm and steady, holding the serenity her face had lacked as Roberta replayed this part of her mission to the other two Shield agents. "Coulson do you have a picture yet? It's cold in here. I'm sure Emerson would like to put her Jacket back on."

"Almost have it. You can't really breathe while using these damn little things," he replied, his voice was still soft but lacked the mild mannered cover for its steel. "Alright, Agent, you can put the jacket back on. I got a clear shot of it. Let's find Koenig so you can get your lanyard."

With that he and May led the way out of the room as she slipped her Jacket back on. Roberta left the t-shirt in a waste bin, punishing it for failing to keep a secret that could not be kept forever. As she followed them from the room, she considered that at some point the second mark would have to be revealed when they found Ward's second one. Would it be better to tell them before Ward was questioned?


	3. Chapter 3

Roberta was lead to the room where the lie detector was located, and introduced to Koenig. He was about two inches shorter than her own five foot nine inch height, requiring her to look down to see into his eyes. Koenig was very congenial and welcoming even though she knew that should she fail this test he was explaining to her as they shook hands, the congenial and welcoming look on his face would disappear. His pride in the contraption was almost boyish in nature. Roberta was sure that many had underestimated this man for his height and his apparent sweetness, she however would not be one of them. There was a reason that Fury had put this man here in this position, and one should never underestimate a person when Director Fury had decided something was there.

When Roberta was finally strapped into the monstrosity that was supposed to be a chair, Koenig began to ask his questions. "What is your full name?" He asked in a more subdued voice than she had heard from him before this point.

"Roberta Amell Emerson," she replied succinctly.

"What is your eye color?"

"Grey," she said with some irritation. She knew they had to establish a base line, but the question seemed frivolous just the same.

"Have you ever been married," he asked.

"No," the word loaded with more than just her concerns with Ward currently.

"Please list your immediate family," his tone though all business cut her like a knife.

She hesitated but a moment and said, "Abandoned as a child no legal immediate family to speak of."

"Please list your known immediate genetic family," he pursued relentlessly.

"Mother, Melissa Emerson. Father, James Emerson. Older Brother, Richard Emerson," she bit out.

"What's the difference between an egg and a rock," he asked with a cocky tilt to his head.

"What," she floundered. He repeated the question, obviously serious. Roberta answered, "One has the potential for life. The other does not."

"How old were you when you were recruited to Shield?"

Regaining her bearing with the familiar question she answered firmly, "Twenty."

"How long were you undercover as Hydra?"

"Basically from the beginning I was recruited for the purpose of being a mole," she answered simply.

"Why were you trusted so easily?"

So he was going to go for the tough questions was he? Roberta took a deep breath to center herself. "I was approached by an officer while I was in the Army to join Hydra. They had noticed my anti-social characteristics. Basically they thought I would be another version of Ward as he is a version of hundreds more Hydra recruits. They did not count on my possessing a conscience. I said yes immediately, and then turned right around and betrayed them by looking for anyone who might be able to stop them. Fury found me because I asked the right people the right questions."

"You're on a deserted island alone, sitting on the beach is a box what is in that box?" Koenig asked in all seriousness.

Roberta cocked an eye brow at him in question, and he nodded his head to signal that yes he was completely serious.

"Answers," she replied, unintentionally cryptic. It must not have been too cryptic for Koenig because he moved on.

"Shield no longer has the influence it once did, so why are you here?"

"I have nothing to offer the world except my skills as an agent," she said, the underlying truth that she was not wanted anywhere else that was wholesome went unsaid. Roberta waited to be asked for clarification, but Koenig seemed pleased with the results her responses delivered and went back to his boyish exuberance as he handed her a lanyard.

May waited outside of the lie detector room to lead Roberta to her own room. May obviously had something to say to her or a lower ranking agent would have escorted her to her new quarters. Yet she remained silent as they ghosted over the floors separating Roberta from her place of rest.

Roberta had patience to spare. She could out wait even the most practiced of Hydra's officers to see what they wanted to ask her. A person could give away more than just the words from his or her lips if one rushed to fill silent moments. This was something Roberta had learned early on as an abandoned child in the system. Playing her cards close to her chest and waiting for her opponent to play first always had paid off for Roberta. Tonight though she was impatient. So close to her goal of ending her double life and beginning a relatively normal one in the morning was more temptation than she could resist so she played her hand first, "What is it you need to say to me, Ma'am?"

May turned her head only slightly to look at Roberta out from under an elegantly raised brow. Her lips lifted in a pleased smirk as she answered in her quiet way, "For obvious reasons, your movements will have to be restricted. You cannot go near Ward's holding cell without an escort, and you may not be armed if you do so."

"I have no desire to see him," Roberta's answer seemed to stun the seemingly unflappable woman. Roberta would have supposed that with her infamous pragmatism May would have been the first to understand such a course of action, instead she appeared confused by Roberta's lack of draw to her soul mate.

"I don't understand. The common understanding is that being away from one's soul mate once discovered is painful without the bond being established. Do you not need to see him to be able to function," May asked in a surprising moment of solicitous care.

They had made it to the door of what would be Roberta's quarters so she stopped and turned to face May. It was Roberta's turn to raise her eyebrows at May. The Calvary was not reputed to have an empathetic bone anywhere in her diminutive body. Roberta looked down the almost half foot difference to make pointed eye contact with the senior officer, hoping such an open move would impress upon the woman the seriousness of the situation.

"I have known from the moment I could understand the concept of morality that one of my soul mates was going to be psychotic. I have researched a great deal what it is like for a sane person to be mated to someone like Ward. Encouraging the formation of any kind of bond with him would be ill-advised and careless. I cannot risk the inherent outcomes that come with an emotional bond were it to form even if I was capable of with-standing the pull to establish the actual mated bond with him. I would become a liability for Shield and another pawn for his use."

May then said something that floored Roberta who never expected a woman so renowned for her pragmatism to utter such naiveté, "Surely finding his soul mate changes things for him."

"No, ma'am. For people like Ward things don't just change when they meet their soul mates. He doesn't have an unfavorable vice that he would give up for the love a good woman. He is a cold blooded killer, capable of murdering those who thought him to be their friend. He pursues Skye believing she belongs to him when she is obviously happy with whatever she has going on with the Soldier. He is completely unhinged and amoral, the soul mate bond is not some magic fix that can repair his mind or even his soul. And I…" she trailed off for a moment trying to find the words to make this woman understand that though she was on the side of good, she wasn't much better than Ward. For her the ends had to justify the means. How else could she live with the things she did knowing that she had made moral compromises all along the way to achieve her goals? "I don't have the ability to be the good woman whose love can heal or save him. I have made some incredibly disgusting choices as a double agent to maintain my cover," again she stopped. She couldn't believe that she was sharing this much. She had never done so in all the years since she learned why her parents gave her up for adoption. It was, however, imperative that this woman know, so she could tell Coulson, that Roberta could not be used to redeem Ward. He wasn't redeemable and Roberta herself wasn't either really. She was just going to be a very effective tool for them to use elsewhere. "Ward and I deserve each other really, I have also killed people that believed I was their friend or ally. The only difference between he and I is I did it in the name of the good of the many. That doesn't change the fact I have killed my share of the few, and I would honestly kill him too if it came down to it. So no, ma'am, I cannot help him. I cannot redeem him, only he can choose to do that, but he doesn't want to. He had his chance when I said his words and he still wants Skye. I can't help you regain his loyalty or mind."

"I don't believe you deserve each other. We saw your file. You aren't just a name on a list of faceless assets. We had a file on each of you. I think you deserve a break. The thought was naïve, but for your sake I do hope that finding you can change things for him," the way May spoke was so straightforward and incongruent with the caring sentiments she expressed.

"Thank you, Ma'am. I am tired, care if I go to bed now," Roberta asked hoping to end this conversation quickly.

"Yes," May said in her short way. As Roberta made to enter her room May stopped her, "Don't think I didn't pick up on the part where Ward is only one of your soul mates though."

Roberta turned to look over her left shoulder at May with a self-deprecating smile gently lifting the right side of her mouth, "I didn't think you had missed it. I haven't met them, judging by Ward's reaction I thought it possible it was Skye."

"No, Skye has only one mark; and Barnes is her mate," May replied.

"Then I have no idea who it could have been. Ward may know. I'm to bed now if you have nothing else you need to say?" It was a question more than a statement and it was followed by a barely suppressed yawn.

"No, go to bed. I will have them assess Ward for any clues as to who might be your third."

"If you must. Good night," with that Roberta retreated to the darkness of her room. Hoping for sleep to claim her quickly and completely leaving no room for the dreams that would normally haunt her. She fumbled to find a switch for a source of light. The overhead came on with a blaring intensity that stabbed through Roberta's over tired brain. When she blinked the purple spots from her vision she caught sight of the lamp by the bed, she moved to turn it on and then turned back to the source of the blinding fluorescent glare and switched it off. The room was now bathed in a soft yellow light that Roberta found soothing.

Thankfully there were clothes in the drawers seeing as all her own possessions had been left behind. She hadn't had many to speak of in the first place, but she knew at the outset of this mission that she was going to be lugging around a man who easily weighed two-hundred and fifty plus pounds. She hadn't wanted to try and cart her things around as well. She had obviously made the right choice, digging as she was in a drawer of warm comfy socks. They were plain and white; the sweats and tees she found were a plain grey, but equally as comfy. She made her selections and then padded out of the room to the barracks style bathroom.

The bathroom held the kind of silence that only emptiness can breed. She cleared her mind as she went about her shower routine, finding a measure of peace in the simple bliss of being clean. She refused to dwell on what Ward's second mark would say, trying to convince herself it didn't matter. If the person was like Ward Roberta really didn't need the head ache, and if they weren't the poor bastard really didn't deserve to be so unfairly saddled with what Roberta believed to be the dregs of humanity as his or her soul mates.

The thought that she had the hardest time shaking though, was that a person named Bucky had now entered her life; and he was the famed asset that Hydra believed she would retrieve for them. Who could Barnes possibly know that wasn't like Ward?


	4. Chapter 4

**I want to apologize for how much later this chapter is than the others. I have been very busy, and didn't have any time to finish this chapter before tonight. Thank you for all the favorites and follows. Every time I receive an email informing of another favorite/follow, I get a big doofy grin on my face and my heart gets sappy.**

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Roberta, despite her hopes, did not sleep well. The bed, while much more comfortable to what she had been used to, was not what she was accustomed to. The sounds the building emitted while mundane were unfamiliar in their patterns. The fact that she was supposed to be safe did not negate the truth of the situation she found herself in, her new environment was completely foreign to her.

Add to that she could not shake the worry that accompanied her knowledge of what Bucky Barnes had been for the last several decades. All she needed was for her other soulmate to be another Hydra agent. Her life felt like all it ever did was spiral out of control. If there was a God out there assigning these soul mates he must really hate her.

Instead of lying in the bed and feeling sorry for herself, Roberta made her way over to her discarded cargo pants from the night before. She dug out her media player and ear buds as she made her way out of the room she put the buds in to listen to the one thing that gave her mind solace. Nothing worked like music to calm her raging thoughts. After every kill, even the justifiable ones, she had turned to music to soothe the rampaging guilt that would threaten to consume her.

Leaning on the wall opposite her door, with arms crossed was Skye. Roberta turned down her media player and removed one bud from her ear for the sake of politeness. Skye moved from her casual position to stand straighter and quirked one elegant eye brow up, "On your way to see your soul mate?"

How high ranking was Skye that Coulson felt the need to share the nature of Roberta's relationship to Ward with her? "Actually, no. You can back down from whatever warning you felt the need to give. I promise I am more than aware of what kind of man he is. I won't be pursuing a bond with him."

This seemed to surprise Skye. That eyebrow rose even higher; there was a very serious danger it would disappear into her hairline. The surprise though quickly turned to disbelief as she scoffed, "Do you expect me to believe that? I have a soul mate, I know the pull is irresistible."

"Maybe for you it was," Roberta began, "but I grew up knowing my soul mate would be a killer. I was prepared mentally and emotionally for how meeting him would affect me, and I know what all the current research has to say on dealing with it. There is a whole branch of psychology dedicated to treating people who find themselves in soul mate pairs such as this one. You can drop the hostility. I am on your side."

The look on Skye's face was amused as well as chastened, "That wasn't very fair of me." It would appear that that would be all the apology Roberta would get on the matter. That was fine with her, she had known what she might be faced with from others looking in when she had made her decision not to even consider bonding with Ward as he was now. For those mated her reluctance would seem unnatural. For those unmated it might seem ungrateful.

None of that mattered though. Roberta knew what she had to do, and it was stay away from Ward until he was cleared by a mental health professional after many years of rehabilitation and therapy. Even in that case it was not unheard of soul mates to reject the bond if they were already committed or in love with someone else. Skye was unavailable to Ward, but he might feel being alone was better than being with someone who was her. Ward might even have a problem if their third turned out to be another male. Even with the perceived guarantee of the marks people still made their own choices. Sometimes people just didn't agree with what the soul marks had to say. It could be hard to override the pull, but sometimes a person was either that stubborn or that in love with whoever they rejected their soul mate for.

Skye seemed to regret her earlier tone, but she was still curious, "How will you handle the pull? It's been about ten hours since you last touched or saw him, aren't you at least uncomfortable yet?"

"I do have the beginnings of an itch right under my skin. I had planned to find the gym and blow my eardrums out with some very loud rock music. Care to direct my steps?"

Skye's face opened into a real smile at that, and she gestured for Roberta to follow her. They entered an elevator and began to make their way down. Halfway to their destination it stopped, and in walked Barnes. He was only a couple inches taller than Roberta, but he practically towered over Skye's five foot five and change frame. Her face lit up like every romance novel description depicted of one soul mate catching sight of the other. For his part, Barnes didn't really smile; but he had stopped scowling when he saw her. Skye reached a hand towards him, and he took it without thought. Something in Roberta's chest hurt at the sight of their two hands joined together by the lacing of their fingers. When had she ever had the chance to hold any one's hand? It must have been the home she was in before fifth grade when the foster mom helped her to cross the street. Fifteen years? Maybe. Did it matter?

Barnes chose then to interrupt her thoughts, "So word is that the ass hole is your soul mate. That's bad luck, what deity did you piss off?"

Roberta actually chuckled at that, "I have been asking myself that for close to twenty years now. Doesn't matter though since I am not going to bond with him. Your mate was actually just directing me to the gym so that I could start distracting myself from the pull."

"Started already," he asked succinctly as the doors of the elevator dinged open.

"Bucky, it's been about ten hours. That's not 'already', that's pretty on time," Skye gently reprimanded him as they made their way down the corridor at a leisurely pace.

"I wasn't keeping count," he replied sardonically.

"I was surprised to feel it this soon actually. I had intended to already be making myself miserable before it had started. I should have woken sooner, I guess. It's not bad though. All I read on it said it would hurt, right now it's just an itch I can't scratch," Roberta said perfectly innocently.

Skye chuckled and said, "That's what battery operated boyfriends are for."

The dark expression on Roberta's face sent Skye into a full bellied chortle, "it's true!"

"It's not that kind of itch! My God, don't you have a filter," Roberta exasperatedly queried.

"No, she doesn't. You should see what my soul mark says," Barnes supplied much to Skye's further amusement. Her laughter was such that they were forced to pause in their pursuit of the gym as she rested her hands on her knees.

"Well that sounds unfortunate, big guy. Listen, Skye, I'ma need you to get a hold of yourself so you can get me to a treadmill. I need to run," Roberta instructed the incorrigible girl. Skye stood up straight and wiped a tear from her eye as they continued on their way.

When they reached a door twenty feet from the elevator they entered. The gym was bigger than any Roberta had before seen. There were easily twenty treadmills in here and then all of the other equipment as well. Skye began explaining that this was only one of the gyms located at the base, however it was the closest one to Roberta's room so it would likely be the most convenient to her.

Bucky and Skye left Roberta to herself in the gym. She began by setting a grueling pace on the treadmills and then progressed to strength training. All the while the barely there itch she had been chasing progressed to a slow burn emanating outward from the words on her chest. Every time the pain ratcheted up a notch she bumped up the volume on her media player. After several hours of what seemed fruitless labor to Roberta's frustration she left to hobble to the showers. She leaned her head on the shower wall trying to breathe through the pain. Her eyes fluttered shut as she became centered on the mark.

All research showed that even the brushing of their fingers would be enough to relieve Roberta's pain. Ward was most likely in as much discomfort as herself, and that was all the motivation she needed to stay where she was. If denying him comfort meant punishing herself then she would. Ward would most likely only punish her for not being Skye in whatever way he could even as he sought to use her to assuage his own pain. He was after all not mentally stable and more than capable of abuse.

Despite Roberta's eyes being closed, her vision began to black out. The muted pinks and yellows of the fluorescent lights shining through the thin veil of her eye lids began to dance and then to fade as the world receded into the blessed quiet of the dark.

Upon waking in a medical unit Roberta groaned. Fainting in the showers was going to absolutely ruin whatever reputation she may have garnered over the years. Roberta was to say the least, excruciatingly embarrassed by her fleeting weakness, made all the worse by her nude state during the time. Whoever had found her would have gotten eyeful of her birthday suit.

Roberta felt like she had been hit by a mac truck. Damn! The pull was definitely not something to play with. Those who had resisted must have been very stubborn, or immune to pain. _Both! Both sounds good._

As Roberta gingerly sat up, she moaned some more. Hell, if fainting didn't ruin her rep, a moan here and there couldn't do much damage either. She lifted her hand to her forehead to examine a source of pain separate from the pull, to find the ridges of neatly executed stitches marching their way diagonally toward her hairline. No matter how neat or masterful the surgeon had been there would be a scar. _Good thing Ward already finds me off putting, the scar will make no difference. Har dee har. I crack myself up,_ she thought sarcastically. As she took inventory of herself and her surroundings she was pleased but unsurprised to find she had been put into a hospital gown. Not the epitome of modest attire but much better than nudity. Now the question was, who has found her and did they see the soul mark on her left leg?


End file.
